For the Wife Who Married Wrong

I didn’t do it this way and a lot of us didn’t…doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.

But a confident woman who knows who she is actually knows what she is looking for in a partner. She isn’t looking to validate herself with a good looking lover. She knows what her deal breakers are and so she easily rules out any companions who do not fit.

She knows she is valuable and unique. She understands herself well enough to have an idea when someone isn’t compatible with her.

Lastly, she loves herself already so when she does find a partner and God confirms, she is able to love out of an overflow of a healed heart. She isn’t trying to soothe the wounds of the past with sex and lust… And who knows…maybe once she is whole she realizes the gift of singleness is grand.

Whenever I see good dating advice, I feel regret.

Regret because I didn’t follow the good advice. Regret because I made huge mistakes. Regret because I ignored things that should have been addressed. Regret because I never gave myself the option of breaking up or waiting for something different. Regret because I feared to be unloved. Regret because I feel like I got married too soon, too young, too naive — and I didn’t realize any of this until after I got married.

It’s funny to say that out loud: I regret getting married when I did, I regret dating the way I did, I regret the choices that I made and where I ended up. All of those things are true, but once the eternal covenant is made, there’s no Plan B, no what if, no way to turn back time and try again.

But I need to say the regret out loud. I need to name mistakes as mistakes, bad decisions as bad decisions, if not for my own benefit then for the benefit of others.

I didn’t do the dating thing right.

I was verbally abusive and manipulative.

People were right to tell him to break up with me.

I was far too insecure to know what I wanted out of life or marriage.

Marrying during a catastrophic existential crisis was a terrible idea.

And it hurts — it kills — to say “I shouldn’t have” and “I wish I’d done,” especially when other couples are happy, and not in therapy, and still madly in love with each other, and telling everybody that marriage is the best thing that ever happened to them.

*

Saying those things, it feels like a betrayal of the one you love most, but it’s not. I love my husband. I’m in love with my husband.

It’s a you problem, and always has been, even if the marriage exacerbates the problem and salts the wound you’re trying to heal.

Marrying before you’re ready, before you’re healed, it’s like trying to bench press 250 on a broken arm, all while trying to smile for the camera the whole time. Maybe marriage would be easier, maybe life would be easier, if I knew who I was and what I’d believed, and had the courage to be that way instead of melting down into existential angst.

I keep telling myself, I thought marriage was for broken people?

Isn’t it?

Maybe I’m a different kind of broken.

*

It feels like there’s a textbook brokenness that marriage only strengthens — and I didn’t have that textbook brokenness. I didn’t have textbook anything — an ENFJ marrying an ISTP; a recovering fundamentalist marrying a cradle Catholic; a narrative, empathetic soul marrying a facts and figures brain.

Even now, writing this, I’m giddy over him and who he is and how different we are and how that makes me laugh and challenges me — but that doesn’t take away the regret, and it doesn’t take away the fear that because we weren’t a textbook case, we’re doomed.

I’m a rule follower. Life ends if the rules aren’t followed. I have no imagination beyond the rules. I have no idea what to anticipate, so I don’t know how to react. I have no skillset for improvising life or trailblazing my own path.

When your story doesn’t follow the rules, doesn’t make a neat equation (do x to get y), when it goes completely off the rails into uncharted, unadvised territory, it makes you want to stop dreaming, trying, and hoping.

This is how I think: I broke the dating rules, and now I face the consequences.

*

This was all weighing on my shoulders, unconsciously, when Amber Picota shared the block quote of advice. Everything, everything about her advice is spot on, everything I didn’t do and didn’t understand and should have.

But for the first time, I didn’t feel only regret. I felt hope.

This good advice wasn’t, for once, in the context of the woman who followed all the dating rules and ended up with the marriage of her dreams. It was in the context of, well, having broken the rules — regret, journey, mess, change, the sensibility that only comes from doing it wrong the first time.

“I didn’t do it this way,” she can admit. “A lot of us didn’t.” (Raising my hand.) “Doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

Oh, thank God.

And this is the hope, this is the challenge, this is what I grit my teeth to do every day: My marriage, my life will look different and messy and atypical and never the poster child for good Christian anything…but it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.

Maybe it’ll even be interesting, for once.

*

“You mean,” said Lucy rather faintly, “that it would have turned out all right – somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?”

“To know what would have happened, child?” said Aslan. “No. Nobody is ever told that.”

“Oh dear,” said Lucy.

“But anyone can find out what will happen,” said Aslan.

I have lost the opportunity to know what would have happened had I waited, and healed, and collected my confidence and self-knowledge, but I can still find out what will happen now that I choose to heal, grow, and stabilize with a good, loving man.

That is still a choice I can make well, and not regret.

NB: I discovered this in my drafts folder. I wrote this a year ago, right at the end of the Seven Months of Marriage Hell where I felt on the brink of separation. I’m really happy to see that my conclusion proved true so far, and our marriage is doing fabulous!

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14 thoughts on “For the Wife Who Married Wrong”

In theory it sounds like good advice, to wait until you find yourself and healing for all the broken places, in practice we would never marry because the process takes a lifetime.
If you have found the love of a good man you are blessed, the journey won’t be easy (it never is) but it will be better together.

Psh. Everyone is messed up and there is no textbook marriage. Every single marriage is weird somehow, either by how they got there or where they’re going. Heck, you can do all the right things and still wind up single! I’ve learnt that there are rules for living a good life, yes. But they don’t make everything in life good. Storms always come. Even idyllic marriages are going to take a hit somewhere along the lines. I look at it this way, if you can weather an early storm in life, you have the calm to look forward to later in life.

But then again, life has an unpredictable amount of curveballs… whatever the weather, we all get the choice to become the people we want to be and make the most of where we find ourselves.

Thank you for sharing this and the post about the challenges you faced in the first year of your marriage. Both articulated my own “new wife” experience incredibly accurately. My husband and I were married less than a year ago, and over the past few months I have realized that he married me in the midst of his own existential crisis, much like you described above. The result of that has been utterly heartbreaking and terrifying, at least at times, coupled with an intense fear that we were doing marriage “wrong.” This post was much-needed breath of fresh air.

I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you as the spouse on the other side, watching your husband weather such a crisis and seeing its effects on you and your marriage. Best wishes to you!! We’re all in this together. :)

Oh boy. This sounds so much like my situation, I could have written it myself. The only thing I have to say is, even if someone is textbook-perfect when starting out in their dating relationship or marriage, life happens and messes happen and sooner or later, most likely, something is going to go off the rails somewhere. Beginning well doesn’t always guarantee finishing well. Thankfully, the reverse is also true: starting off on the wrong foot doesn’t mean you have to end up there. As a wise man I knew once said, “The whole story ain’t written yet.”

This is the one blog post I always come back to when I am moody and feeling frustrated about being single, despite knowing better. Singleness has its own struggles, but I’m forever thankful that my last relationship ended; neither of us was ready to get married even though we thought it was what we wanted. This and “Seven Months of Marriage Hell” have been so helpful in my growth and healing process. I’ve come to realize that even though I desired to change and grow and learn, my ex never did, and I would have been absolutely miserable. In the six months since that ended, I’ve done a lot of unhindered growth, and your blog has helped so much with that process. Thank you for your openness and honesty, Bailey!

It is so wise of you to realize that major incompatibility and to listen to the ever-present doubt NOW. I've spoken to many wives who wished they'd acted on that *before* they got married, but it takes a lot of bravery to even seriously acknowledge that discomfort, much less act on it.

Really liked what you had to say! Impactful. Would love to hear more of your story and feature it on my blog… please email me through my contact page on softcoverheart.blog if you’re interested. My blog is made for encouraging women, and I’d love to feature your testimony on my blog if you’re willing!
Blessings,
Leah

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Ezer is a lifestyle blog for egalitarian Christian women. Our readers are intelligent and compassionate, interested in the lives of others and engaged with the ecumenical Christian tradition. read more